


Sunscreen

by KittyCargo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Art welcome, Auror Harry Potter, Bisexual Harry Potter, Do not post to another site, Drarry, F/M, Firewhiskey (Harry Potter), Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay, Gay Draco Malfoy, Getting Together, I'm Bad At Tagging, Jealousy, Luna is blunt, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not really angsty, POV Draco Malfoy, Pining, Podfic Welcome, Potions lab assistant Draco Malfoy, Song Lyrics, Song fic, alcohol mention, brief thoughts of self harm, not nice to Astoria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 15:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20176792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyCargo/pseuds/KittyCargo
Summary: "I want someone to remind me to wear sunscreen and take my vitamins when it slips my mind..." -Ira Wolf





	Sunscreen

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to my excellent beta- TDCat. I really appreciate the time and effort you put into helping me perfect this fic, not to mention the wonderful insights and perspectives you added. Thank you!
> 
> I self-prompted and wrote this based off of an Ira Wolf song called Sunscreen. I love the wistfulness and longing of this song and hope I captured it in this fic.

“Hey! I thought that was you!” A friendly, familiar voice called down the Tesco aisle. “Oh- um...are you okay?” Harry asked, catching full sight of him.

Draco sighed, annoyed. Of course Potter would catch him at his worst, sweaty and sunburnt, every move slow and deliberate so as to not rub his shirt over his stinging shoulders too much. Draco had come to the muggle Tesco just to avoid this sort of meet up, but of course stupid fucking Harry Potter was there, tanned and fit and looking concerned for Draco.

The worst part was that as much as he hated to admit it, he actually appreciated the concern. Harry had been really good to him and his mother after the war, and he even looked forward to seeing Harry at the occasional get together, now that Ginny and Blaise had started dating.

He’d been with them today, at the beach, third-wheeling and watching them be disgustingly adorable. It wasn’t until Draco was already a lobster that he realized he’d forgotten to put on a sun charm. Apparently Blaise never bothered with one, but he had been surreptitiously renewing Ginny’s every two hours. He’d not extended the favor to Draco, so Draco was stuck in a muggle Tesco looking for their aloe potion. Granger had lent him some once, and it worked better than the wizarding equivalent, plus the muggle store let him be anonymous. Usually.

“I’m fine, Potter. Just a bit burnt.”

Harry muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “More than a bit,” but thankfully he said it quietly enough that Draco could ignore it. Harry studied the shelves for a moment then pulled out a bottle.

“I like this one best. It’s more like a lotion than a gel. Not quite as tacky on your skin, you know?” Harry held the bottle out to Draco.

“I didn’t realize you burnt,” Draco said bluntly, eyeing Harry’s perpetually tan skin. Harry ran a hand through his hair and rubbed at the back of his neck. A nervous gesture. Draco suddenly realized that he’d been rather rude. He was probably dehydrated as well as burnt. He tried to backtrack. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

Harry interrupted him. “You’re fine,” he said kindly, looking as if he meant it. “Common misconception. I can still burn, it just takes longer and doesn’t show up as…” Harry pursed his lips together, looking as if he was trying not to laugh, “visibly,” he finished with a vague wave of his hand at Draco.

Draco flushed, thinking again about the sight he must be, still in his swim trunks, his damp T-shirt sticking to shoulders. He’d usually have gone home to change before going to the store, but he had been so desperate for some relief he hadn’t bothered.

“Yes. Well, we’re not all so blessed,” he answered dryly and gently tugged the bottle of aloe potion out of Potter’s hand. “I’ll see you around, Potter,” he called over his shoulder as he walked to the register, wincing as his turned neck wrinkled his burnt skin.

This wouldn’t have happened if Blaise had been thoughtful enough to do his sun charm as well, Draco thought petulantly. He didn’t like thinking about it, but he was rather jealous of Ginny Weasley. Not because he wanted to date Blaise- they’d been friends for too long for that to be anything less than awkward- he just wanted someone to care about him like that.

It had taken a full week for Draco’s sunburn to heal, although that potion Potter recommended had been good. The redness had finally faded, and left Draco with a slight tan but he felt it was rather unfair that it wasn’t any darker than “slightly less pale than usual” as Pansy had put it. He hadn’t been able to go out clubbing with her the past Saturday, as he was too busy laying on the cool floor of his flat and moaning dramatically — not in the fun way that clubbing would have guaranteed. But he was in his tightest jeans, and Pansy had done his eyeliner, and he was ready to pull tonight.

The club was loud and busy, the music matching the wild thump of his heart as he twisted his body next to Pansy’s. Several strangers had danced with Draco, but no one had caught his eye yet.

Suddenly, a flash of dark, curly hair appeared near him and Draco studied the figure out of the corner of his eye. The movement was more lithe than powerful, and the hair was a shade too light, not quite messy enough but the bloke was undeniably Draco’s type. Bright blue eyes turned to meet Draco’s and soon Draco was pressed up against him on the dance floor, then in a cab to the bloke’s flat, then finally Draco was pressing into him. It was impersonal and quick, no messy history of war between them, and the mark on his wrist was nothing more than a faded tattoo to this man. As he lay there breathless afterwards, he unthinkingly pulled closer, settling his limbs into the empty spaces of the other man’s. John or Jim — Draco couldn’t remember his name — rubbed his back twice and gave a loud fake yawn.

“Well, I’ve got to be up early tomorrow for work…” Jim started, but Draco was already up, searching for his pants. He hadn’t expected to stay the night, but it would’ve been nice to share a bed with someone else for a whole night. The last time he’d done that was when he’d had a steady muggle boyfriend, about a year after the war while he was still on probation. They’d lasted almost two years, and Draco still missed the warmth and quiet steady breathing even now, six years later.

John (Draco was pretty sure now that it was John) offered to make Draco coffee while he waited for a cab. It was raining, and John had insisted on calling him a cab.  _ Maybe he really did have to work early tomorrow,  _ Draco thought generously as he sipped the black coffee, wishing for some sugar but not wanting to be a bother.  _ It would just be nice, _ he thought as he walked down to the cab,  _ to have someone who already knew that. _

Draco’s mother had taken it upon herself to find Draco a wife. They’d had this argument before, and while Narcissa was aware of Draco’s “lifestyle choices,” she’d still clung to the thought of restoring the Malfoy name to its former glory through a marriage and children. “Heirs”, she’d called them once, making Draco cringe and rub his left wrist absently. Usually Draco would tell her where she could stick her heirs, but after his night with Jim (he’d thought it through and decided it must’ve been Jim) he’d felt so lonely that he’d allowed her to set him up. Maybe his mother couldn’t find him someone he’d love romantically, but he thought maybe he could build his life with a companion.

Astoria Greengrass was by all rights a good match. Wealthy, pureblood family, smart enough to stay out of blood politics and the war. She was nice enough, and Draco didn’t mind spending time with her, but she seemed rather...stuffy. Perhaps it would have worked out better if Draco was still a stuffy pureblood too, but he’d given up the whole high society thing when he’d been forced to live without magic for his yearlong probation. He still enjoyed nice things, crisply starched robes and dry wines of a good vintage, but he also enjoyed the thrill of digging through dusty records in shops with sticky floors, watching muggle films while eating popcorn with too much butter, and a raunchy joke told with perfect timing.

Astoria had wrinkled her nose when Potter made a well-timed innuendo at Blaise and Ginny’s backyard barbeque, and she looked at Draco disdainfully as he’d chuckled along at Blaise and Ginny’s expense. Ginny had laughed the hardest, wiping tears from her eyes. As Ginny’s laughter died down, Blaise, who was flushed a bright red that Draco had never seen on him before, pointedly changed the subject, asking Draco about work. Draco obliged and regaled the group with a story about his boss mixing up a couple potions, and Astoria, having already heard the story, wandered off, to where Pansy was fawning over Granger’s — well, Granger-Weasley now — new spawn. Potter had been in the lab at the time, filling out paperwork to get a suspicious looking potion identified by the lab, and he joined into Draco’s story, reminding him of the funnier bits and encouraging him to do the voices. Eventually his and Potter’s story segued into one of Blaise’s own work mishaps and Draco let his mind wander for a moment at the sight of Astoria holding the baby. It did seem sweet, the thought of a family of his own, but the smile slid off his face when he turned back to the group. Potter had his arm wrapped around Lovegood (where the hell had she come from, anyway?) and was pressing a kiss to her forehead. Draco wasn’t sure when they’d become a couple, but apparently they were. He quietly excused himself from the conversation, and went to refill his drink, adding double the whiskey that Astoria had when she’d made it for him earlier.

He slipped off to a quiet corner far from the baby and lit a cigarette to go with his drink. Something about the smoke made the liquor taste better and something about the liquor made the smoke taste better. It was a trick he’d picked up from his muggle ex, and he was so lost in reminiscing that he didn’t hear Potter come up behind him.

“I’d wondered where you wandered off to,” he said in that friendly tone of his. Draco tried really hard not to scoff at him but wasn’t sure he’d succeeded.

“Everyone’s paired off. Blaise and Ginny, Pansy and Greg, Ron and Hermione,” he made sure to use their first names, “you and Luna…” It slipped out, sounding as bitter as it felt, before Draco could stop it. He squinted at his cup in the fading sun, trying to gauge how much he’d had to drink.

“You and Astoria,” Harry reminded him and Draco rolled his eyes at that. “Besides, Luna and I aren’t a couple. We’re just friends.” Harry smiled at these words, but Draco was sure he could see disappointment behind it. Bitterness recognized bitterness. 

“You kiss your friends?” Draco didn’t call Harry out; let him cover his feelings for Luna under the guise of friendship if that’s what he wanted. 

“On the forehead? Sure,” Harry laughed, and it filled Draco up with more warmth than the drink and smoke. If Draco had been less drunk, he would’ve noticed Harry’s grin become mischievous and wouldn’t have been so surprised when Harry slung an arm around him and pecked him on the forehead.

Draco’s eyes went wide. He lifted his hand to his head where Harry’s lips had been, nearly singeing his hair with his cigarette.

“What was that for!?” He asked, unable to believe what had just happened.

“I told you! I kiss my friends!” Harry was laughing again.

“We’re friends?” Draco asked incredulously. He would’ve said acquaintances, at best.

Harry gave him an odd look, but he still smiled when he answered. “Of course we’re friends,” he said in an obvious tone.

“Draco!” Astoria had suddenly appeared again, calling for him to heel. “We need to leave soon. We have that breakfast thing with your mum. It’ll be an early morning tomor-wait are you smoking?” Her nose had done that wrinkly thing again, and Draco knew he was about to be scolded.

“Just when I drink. I like the way it tastes,” he defended, hating himself a bit and hating her more. What was he ever thinking? Dating her was a disaster, no matter how nice it’d be to have a companion, to have a family.

Harry’s arm slid off his shoulders and warm fingers wrapped around Draco’s wrist, not hesitating to touch the marked skin. Harry pulled his wrist up and took a drag of Draco’s cigarette from Draco’s hand, then a sip of his own drink.

“Mm, you’re right. That is good,” Harry commented, his eyes on Astoria. She declined to say anything further, pursing her lips at the both of them.

“Early morning.” She stated again and walked away.

Draco tried to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it all. Harry kissing his forehead while his arranged girlfriend disapproved of their smoking. He could feel Harry’s rumbling laughter next to him, and Draco couldn’t contain his giggles. Fits of giggles were terribly unbecoming, but he was drunk and this was the happiest he’d felt in a long time.

“Doesn’t- doesn’t she know-” Harry tried to get out between his peals of laughter, and Draco suddenly wondered how much his friend Harry knew about his “lifestyle choices.” “Doesn’t she know that you’re not a morning person?” Harry finally finished his sentence, his laughter dying down. Draco laughed harder that  _ that  _ was Potter’s question.

“Apparently not,” Draco wheezed. “Although she doesn’t know I’m gay either so…” he trailed off as Potter broke into hysterics again, both of them hanging onto the other for support.

In the end, Astoria got tired of waiting for Draco and left by herself. She also went to breakfast with his mother by herself the next morning, as Draco was busy sleeping off a hangover.

Draco revelled in his friendship with Harry. He’d always thought himself an astute, observant person, but he soon realized that he and Harry had been friends much longer than he’d given them credit for. Harry seemed to drop by the potions lab several times a week, and at first Draco attributed that to Harry’s inability to complete his paperwork without help, but he soon realized that half the times Harry stopped by he didn’t even bring paperwork with him. Instead, he brought the lemon scones that were Draco’s favorite, and buttery breakfast sandwiches on the days that Draco was hungover. Draco would’ve been curious how Harry always knew when he was hungover, except that Harry had always been drinking with him. The most telling thing of all was that none of this was new. He and Harry had been going out for drinks for years, and Harry had always brought him scones and asked for help with his paperwork. Draco just had never dared to label this symbiotic relationship as friendship, never dared to think so much of himself that he and Harry were friends.

It was becoming more and more difficult to just be friends with Harry. Now that he realized that’s what they were, it didn’t seem like enough. He often saw Harry at work or with other friends, enough that he knew how fun Harry was, but not enough to get to know Harry the way he wanted. He wanted to sit and talk with all of Harry’s attention on him, and to listen to Harry talk without anyone interrupting. Draco enjoyed being part of a group and was glad that now that the war was over the Gryffindor and Slytherin prejudices had died down, but he wanted the one-on-one time with Harry, and there seemed to always be someone else around.

Draco took his chance one morning after working with Harry to identify a rather tricky potion. Harry’s hair was more wild than usual, and Draco wasn’t sure if it was from the humidity in the lab or the way Harry ran his fingers through it, tugging at the ends when he was thinking hard. It was disgustingly endearing, and Draco asked Harry out to lunch for a distraction. Harry, to his credit, didn’t even seem surprised, as if he went out to lunch with Draco all the time.

Draco was halfway through telling a funny story when he suddenly realized he’d already told it to Harry the month before at Blaise and Ginny’s get together, the weekend of the horrible Astoria incident. He flushed, embarrassed that he’d told Potter the same story not just once, but twice when Potter had been there for it.

“Wait! You’ve heard this already! Why didn’t you interrupt me?” Draco asked, wondering if Harry had just been waiting to take the piss out of him this whole time.

“You were so excited to tell me,” Harry said simply, his green eyes never leaving Draco’s face. “I like it when you’re excited. Your eyes get squinty.”

“My eyes do  _ not _ get squinty. Malfoys don’t get squinty eyes!” Draco protested hotly.

“You do! Your eyes get all happy and squinty when you get excited. It’s a wonder they’re ever open in pictures,” Harry insisted.

“Spend lots of time looking at my pictures?” Draco teased, trying to ignore the small bit of hope fluttering in his chest.

“I just spend a lot of time with Luna. Her eyes are the same,” Harry commented lightly, but it felt heavy to Draco.

“We are related, you know. Her father is a distant cousin of some sort.” Draco works to keep his voice steady. Fucking Potter wants to fuck his fucking cousin and Draco just wants to get the fuck out of there. He should’ve never invited Potter to lunch. He waved for the check as a voice in his head whispered  _ Jealous. You’re just jealous he doesn’t want to fuck you.  _ He pushes the voice to the side.  _ I’m not jealous,  _ he insists to himself.  _ I want more than just a fuck anyways. _

Draco was called to the hospital the day before Harry’s birthday. Luna sent a patronus to him, a large hare that had startled him so much that he spilled the aconite fluid he’d been working with down his front and he had to hurriedly siphon it off with his wand before it touched his skin and burned him.  _ “Harry’s in hospital. Please hurry,”  _ the hare said in Luna’s voice before it faded away into nothingness. He’d barely gotten the aconite off and yelled a hurried explanation to his co-worker before apparating straight to St Mungo’s. It took several minutes to get the information he needed from the Welcome Witch but after what felt like a lifetime he was skidding to a stop outside of a private room. He could hear a whispered argument happening inside, Luna’s dreamy tone was uncharacteristically sharp and Harry’s low voice was gravelly as he tried to keep it quiet.

Draco couldn’t help but lean in, trying to understand the gist of it.

“-stubborn and selfish-” Luna was saying.

“I saved them though!” Harry was protesting.

“You are too old to keep playing Savior! You have other people to think about now! What about Teddy? And Ro-” Draco leaned too far in and the door squeaked, announcing his presence. He tried desperately to look like he hadn’t been listening in on their private conversation. “Oh, Draco. I’m glad you’re here,” Luna greeted him, dropping back into her typical serene voice. “Maybe you can talk some sense into Harry. I have to go.” She gathered her things and briefly kissed Harry on the forehead. Whatever they’d been arguing about seemed to have exhausted Harry, and he watched her bustle around the room with drooping eyes. Luna motioned to the hallway, and Draco stepped back to let her out. She closed the door softly behind her.

“He made a break in one of his cases, that burglar one?” Draco nodded. He’d helped identify the potion the burglars were using to hide their identity. Luna kept speaking. “They were still a step ahead of the aurors. They took hostages. Harry broke protocol and direct orders to save the hostages and he got himself a lovely cocktail of curses and a crucio for his troubles. They’ve performed all the counter-curses, and there seems to be no lasting damage but they want to keep him overnight for observation. He didn’t want to worry Ron and Hermione with the new baby, and he didn’t particularly feel like having Ginny and Blaise come up here and be cutesy all over him. Neville and Hannah are out of town. I can’t stay; I’ve got a date and I’m not rescheduling for his hero complex.” Luna’s calm voice dulled her blunt words, but only slightly. “Can you stay with him tonight?”

“Of course,” Draco said, straightening and feeling honored that he’d been called up for this responsibility.

Luna ran him through what procedures the healers had already done and the list of counter-curses and potions that had been administered to Harry before giving Draco a brief hug and patting his cheek. Her eyes crinkled softly as she smiled, and then she was gone, off to her date.

Her date.

She wasn’t dating Potter.

Draco stumbled in to the room, thoughts swirling on this.

“Malfoy?” Harry asked, words slurring slightly as he dozed.

“Yeah, I’m back.”

“Did Luna make it for her date?” Harry was trying to push himself up in the bed, wincing as he put pressure on his left wrist and finally gave up. He slumped a little further in the bed, his eyes bright and unfocused, a side effect of the pain potions he had taken.

“Yeah, she made it for her date,” Draco reassured Harry.

“Good. Didn’t want-” Harry yawned “-her to miss it. I like Rolf. He’s good for her.”

Draco studied Harry’s face, already smoothing back into sleep, and he couldn’t find any trace of a lie. Harry had been serious about him and Luna just being friends.

“Glad you’re here,” Harry murmured before dropping off into slumber completely.

Draco spent half the night in the hospital trying to figure out why he’d been so jealous of Luna, and the second half wondering why he felt so pleased that Harry was glad he was there.

If Draco had thought watching Astoria hold a baby was sweet, his heart was completely unprepared for the sight of Harry with Teddy. He’d made an effort to get to know the seven year old, but he always made sure to check with Andromeda and avoid any day that Harry would be spending time with Teddy. Draco worried about being in the way.

After what felt like ages to get discharged, Harry had still insisted on attending his birthday party and had invited Draco along. He was holding his wrist stiff and close to his body, but that didn’t stop him from swinging Teddy in a large circle with his one good arm as Teddy screamed and giggled. It was a small get together but Draco felt outnumbered by Gryffindors. He settled into a quiet corner as the Weasleys hustled and bustled around, and he watched Harry play with Teddy. Draco couldn’t hear what was being said, but Teddy was climbing up Harry’s body and talking animatedly while Harry nodded and listened. Teddy’s hair was slowly becoming darker and darker as he talked, until it was the same jet black as Harry’s. Draco winced for Harry as Teddy did a wild maneuver and kicked Harry’s elbow. Harry sucked in a breath and screwed up his eyes, obviously in pain, but he never yelled at Teddy. Just gave him an extra hug before gently sending him to romp around with a couple red-headed children in the overgrown garden.

Molly spotted Draco in his hiding place and set him to work arranging the table. He flicked his wand to set out plates, then a swish of his wand to arrange the silverware. A third rather complicated twist had the napkins folding themselves to prettily sit on top of the plates. Everyone was beginning to gather around the table, but Harry was nowhere to be seen.

“Draco, I think I saw Harry go inside to take a pain potion. Would you go fetch him please?” Hermione asked distractedly, bouncing the baby gently in her arms as Ron rounded up the other children.

The inside of the house was cool and dark compared to the brightness of the summer afternoon, and it took Draco’s eyes a few moments to adjust. He found Harry in the kitchen, staring out at his party through the kitchen window. Harry started when he heard Draco come in, and Draco pretended not to see him hastily wiping tears away.

Draco waited patiently as Potter pulled himself together, understanding the need for space. When Potter finally turned around, his green eyes were slightly red-rimmed. Draco cautiously crossed the kitchen to be nearer to Potter, thinking perhaps the other man could use a hug. He settled with a hand on Potter’s shoulder, not wanting to invade his space too much.

“I just…” Potter seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “There was a time when I thought I would never have all of this.” Harry turned to face Draco, green eyes searching grey.

“War’s over, Potter,” Draco said, always feeling a bit unsure of himself around Harry.

Harry made a noncommittal sound. He’d turned back to the window and was watching Ron chasing the kids.

“Even before the war...I didn’t know I could have this until Hogwarts, and I’m just feeling thankful. Sentimental, I guess.” Harry leaned into Draco slightly, bumping shoulders. Something electric passed between the two when they touched, and Draco’s breath hitched as he looked at Harry.

“Who knew you’d turn into a sop at such a young age?” Draco murmured, hardly daring to breathe for fear of ruining the moment.

Harry smiled, and began to lean in when Teddy burst into the kitchen, ruining whatever the moment might’ve held.

“It’s time to eat! You’re holding us all up! Aunt ‘Mione sent Draco in to get you  _ ages _ ago!” Teddy was practically yelling, and reached to pull at Harry’s bad arm. Draco quickly intervened and ushered Teddy back outside, giving Harry another moment of peace to collect himself before joining the group. Harry was just a minute behind him, and looked as if he’d used his moment of peace to wash his face.

Draco had never seen Harry look so happy as when he blew out 25 candles squashed together on the cake that Molly had baked for him. Draco wasn’t sure if it was just the candles, but Harry seemed to shine brighter in the presence of his family.

Draco began trying to keep himself busy around the beginning of August. He and Harry went out to lunch together several more times, swapping gossip and trading secrets. The electric feeling that had started at Harry’s birthday party was still there, but precious tendrils of trust had begun to grow as well. The closer it got to the end of the month, the more the skin on Draco’s wrist tingled and burned. He knew he was imagining it, that the mark was faded and ordinary but knowing that didn’t change the prickling feeling it gave him. He hated this time of year. He’d always loved the beginning of a new school year before, but now it was a reminder of how sixteen year olds made stupid decisions.

He’d taken the day that he’d actually received the mark off, and slept till noon, trying to remain in the haze of sleep rather than the haze of self-loathing he knew would come later. Pansy had made a firecall in the late afternoon, trying to distract him with her wedding plans, and Greg had stopped by with a six-pack of beer. He knew he had good friends, but it was hard to let them make him feel good on this one day, the day that he made a terrible choice.

Greg had left an hour ago, and Draco had started working his way through a bottle of Ogden’s now that the beers were all finished. He didn’t dare to light a cigarette to go with it when he was so drunk. He did wonder vaguely if he’d be able to burn the faded skull off if he held his lighter to the skin on the inside of his wrist, but the floo rang before he’d made any decisions. Someone was asking for permission to come to his flat.

Draco fumbled for his wand to adjust the wards to allow it without thinking about the state he was in. The floo was already glowing green with the mystery guest’s arrival when he belatedly realized he was still in pyjamas and probably smelled as strong as the Odgen’s. The fire was bright, and he had to blink blearily several times to make out who it was stepping into his living room at this late hour.

Harry.

Harry was looking at him with those bright green eyes, looking concerned and it was more than Draco could bear while drunk. He slid to the floor and pressed the heel of his hand — his right hand, the unmarked one — to his eyes trying to stop the flow of tears.

“Today’s the- the-” Draco whimpered, couldn’t admit it to Harry. Harry who was so good and kind.

“I know,” Harry joined him on the floor and gently took his left hand, holding it. It took Draco a while to calm down, but eventually his sobs were soft hiccups and even those were fading. Harry held his hand the whole time, and when Harry held it, the mark didn’t burn or itch. It tickled. Draco looked down.

Harry was gently pressing the tip of his wand on the inside of Draco’s wrist, wordlessly creating lines of color over the ugly faded black mark. There were several yellow flowers, and a large blue-green smudge that Harry was gently trying to prod into shape.

“What’s that?” Draco asked, unsure if he was just drunk or if Harry was just a bad artist. Maybe it was both.

Harry sighed. “It’s supposed to be a peacock,” he admitted, looking a bit disappointed with his handiwork. Draco squinted his eyes a bit more and could kind of see it. Harry put down his wand and smoothed his thumb over the sensitive skin, caressing it. “This,” he said, looking at the mark, “was a bad choice. But you,” Harry’s other hand had come up to tilt Draco’s face up to his and it was hard to look him in the eye. “You are not the bad choice you made when you were 16.” Harry pressed a soft kiss to Draco’s wrist, then slipped his arm around his shoulder and pressed another kiss to Draco’s forehead. Draco felt grounded, more solidly himself than he’d felt all month. He exhaustedly rested his head on Harry’s shoulder and finally let himself drift off.

Harry was still there the next morning, quietly making coffee and toast with the window above the sink open. He’d put Draco to bed at some point, and judging from the blankets on the couch, had kipped there. Draco let himself imagine for a moment what it would be like to have Harry pressed against him all night, soothing away the nightmares until the morning came. He shook it off and shuffled in wordlessly, picking up a steaming mug of coffee. He tasted it, and as the caffeine slowly did its job, he realized that it was slightly sweetened, just the way he liked it.

“How do you know to add a bit of sugar but no milk to my coffee?” Draco asked incredulously when he could finally form sentences.

“We’ve been friends for...five years now? I know how you like your coffee.” Harry rolled his eyes like he always did when Draco was being ridiculous. “I’m sure there’s things you know about me.” Harry replied as he handed Draco a piece of buttered toast. Draco considered that as he chewed. 

He knew Harry didn’t like to share food, that it reminded him of the way his cousin would steal off his plate as a child, how he’d never had quite enough to eat growing up. He knew Harry loved to cook extravagant dinners, but he hated cooking breakfast foods because that’s the job his aunt made him do the most often. Draco knew Harry had a scar at the base of his throat from a Horcrux necklace that had burned itself into his skin, and that Harry dated both men and women but somehow managed to keep any mention of his love life out of the papers. He wasn’t sure when he’d learned these things about Harry, these intimate pieces, but he realized that he  _ knew  _ Harry in a way that he knew precious few people and that Harry  _ knew  _ him in a way that he let precious few people.

He stared incredulously at Harry for quite some time. “We’re really good friends,” he finally said.

“Yes, of course,” Harry smiled his patient smile, and Draco realized that he recognized Harry’s different smiles.

“What if...what if we were more than really good friends?” Draco asked cautiously, just enough alcohol left in his body to make him bold like the Gryffindor he was looking at.

Harry’s eyes lit up, but his mouth hummed a sad sound. “I don’t know. Sometimes…” he trailed off, looking for the right words. “Sometimes I’m hard to love.” The quirk of his mouth as he said that told Draco that those weren’t his words, someone else had told Harry that, and Draco wondered briefly if Luna had told him this in that whispered argument he wasn’t supposed to hear. He wanted to wring her neck. Draco knew hard to love. He’s hard to love, nothing but sharp edges and jealousy and mistakes, but he thinks loving Harry might be the easiest thing to do. Harry’s still talking, and Draco forced himself to focus. “I’m a self-righteous git and-” 

Draco cut him off. “I don’t mind. I know you.” Draco’s frantic, finally knowing what he wants is messy black hair and crooked glasses and warm hands in his and terrified that he won’t get that chance. “Please...I want to try,” he begged.

“You want to try?” Harry looked dumbstruck, as if he can’t imagine someone wanting to try to love him.

“Yes,” Draco’s set his mug down, and he can’t stop himself from striding across the kitchen to where Harry looked uncharacteristically uncertain of himself. He gently pried Harry’s mug out of his hands, and tilted his own sad eyes up to his. Harry searched there for a moment and found his iconic bravery. He pressed up to Draco’s lips, warm coffee- and butter-flavored kisses, and it’s the answer that Draco’s hoped for.

Harry nodded, looking determined as a crooked smile slowly lit up his face. “Then let’s try.”

_ Epilogue _

Soft kisses roused Draco from a deep slumber. “I’m getting up to start coffee, but you sleep in. Happy birthday, love,” Harry murmured, his voice rough with sleep. Draco rolled over and dozed lightly. He knew when he got up there would be coffee (sweetened just the way he liked) waiting for him under a stasis charm. After tossing and turning for about thirty minutes, he gave up and stretched, the empty space beside him not letting him drift off the way he wanted. He was on his way to the kitchen when he spotted the beach bag in the hallway. They were taking Teddy to the beach today to celebrate Draco’s birthday. It’d been a year since he’d last been to the beach with Ginny and Blaise, and he was looking forward to spending the day with the people he loved the most. Draco peered in the bag to check that Harry had packed the beach towels, not his nice bath towels. He rummaged past the swim toys and hat to find that Harry had packed the correct towels. Draco pulled them out and refolded them, pausing to pick up the muggle sunscreen potion that had fallen out of the bag. Today was promising to be his best birthday yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! 
> 
> [Find me on tumblr @kittycargo](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kittycargo/blog/kittycargo)


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